iDoughnuts
by universe.disturber
Summary: Sam finds a box of powdered doughnuts with an anonymous note in her locker. But who sent it? SEDDIE oneshot. T for somewhat frequent mild language and some sexual themes. Oh, and I forgot. This is very, very OOC.


_Dear Sam,_

_I thought you might like this treat for breakfast before school. Heaven knows how much you like food. Hope you enjoy._

_An admirer_

Sam Puckett stood at her locker, happily munching on a powdered doughnut, staring at the note that had been safety-pinned to the box. Only part of her mind was on who had sent the doughnuts. Most of her thoughts were on who got their hands on doughnuts so delicious.

"Hey Sam," her best friend Carly approached her locker and greeted her. "Buy some doughnuts on the cab to school?"

"No," Sam swallowed. "I got here by my mom's driving and without food. When I opened my locker I found this box of powdered doughnuts and now there are only two left. Want one?"

"Well, who doesn't love doughnuts?" Carly joked and took the smaller of the two for hers.

"Did you put the box in there?" Carly asked and shut her locker door.

"Shockingly, no. There was a note attached to the box. Here, read it."

She shoved the note in Carly's face, and she took it. While reading it, her face lit up with curiosity and pleasure.

"You seem to be interested," Sam snickered. "What are your makings of it?"

"Somebody has a crush on you!" Carly sang.

"Whoa, Carls, don't be so immature. Nobody has a crush on me. If they do, I'll beat them up and they know it."

"Oh come on. There's gotta be a girly girl in there somewhere. You wouldn't mind if a certain guy had his eye on you."

"Yes, I would!"

Catching on, Sam eyed Carly stealthily.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carly snapped.

"Do you know who sent me the doughnuts?" Sam inquired.

"No!"

"All right, I'll believe you for now. But if you give me anymore proof that you know who sent me this heavenly gift, I swear to God I'll fuck your cat."

"I don't have a cat!"

"But you will. And I'll fuck it."

"You'd better watch your 'fuck it's', Puckett."

After their brief spat, Freddie came in, annoying the hell out of Sam as always. Out of all the boys at Ridgeway, Freddie was certainly not the one who sent Sam the doughnuts. He hated her almost as much as she hated him. If she was wrong and Freddie did think of her in that way, Sam would go beyond ape shit.

"Hey guys," he said. "Where'd you get the powdered doughnuts, Sam?"

"A guy, I hope," she told him. "They were in my locker when I got here this morning. There was a note signed 'an admirer'. What kind of freakish nub signs a note like that?"

"One with a brain," Freddie shot back defensively.

"Okay, Benson, I have a brain, and I would have at least signed the note 'your secret admirer'. But even that's a little third grade, don't you think?"

"And what do you think is ninth grade, Sam? Signing the note with, 'your stalker' or 'your potential rapist'? I think the guy who signed the note the way he did is probably pretty cool. You'd probably be lucky to have him."

"Calm down, Fredward. It's not like it's you. Hey, could you imagine what it would be like if it was you? You'd tell me you gave me the doughnuts, but then I'd have to kill you because I hate you!"

Sheepishly, Freddie's eyes shifted to the ground and muttered a defeated, "Yeah. That'd be a riot."

Carly looked at her crestfallen friend, and her brain suddenly sparked with the greatest idea she'd had since iCarly.

"Why don't the three of us hang out in the iCarly studio tonight?" she suggested. "We can try to figure out who sent Sam the doughnuts."

"Just as long as it's not someone I hate, I'm good," Sam replied.

"And I'll come too," Freddie agreed.

"Good. How does seven sound?"

"Fine."

"Perfect."

"Quit trying to one-up me, Fredweird."

"I'll always be ahead of you in life, Puckett."

They turned away from each other, leaving Carly with a satisfied smirk on her face. Deviant behavior was the best thing Sam had ever taught her.

At seven o'clock, Freddie walked into Carly's apartment. He was worried on how Sam would take the news. She hated him, and she'd been making it very clear all day. Maybe she sensed something. But she was Sam, and she never sensed anything more than ham and Fat Cakes.

"Hi Carly," he said. "Are you coming up to the iCarly studio?"

"Oh, hey Freddie." She smiled. "I'll be up in a minute."

"'Kay."

Habitually, Freddie headed for the elevator and up to the iCarly studio. With that, he couldn't help but think of how glad he was that he no longer liked Carly. She was just too great of a friend to be anything more. And the whole thing just seemed too babyish now. Freddie was fifteen years old, and he needed someone new. Too bad for him.

When he got up to the iCarly studio, he opened the door to find Sam sitting in her regular beanbag chair, sipping out of a bottle of Peppy Cola. She looked so serene that Freddie almost didn't want to barge in on her. But in order to make things work, he knew he had to go in.

"How long have you been here?" he asked and shut the door behind him.

"Like ten minutes," Sam informed. "When I got here, Carly said she'd be right up, and she's not. Now you're here, and it's leading me to believe that she's never going to come up here."

She and Freddie exchanged anxious glances, and together they darted for the elevator door. A note was taped to it, scribed in Carly's handwriting.

_Guys, you need to talk this out. Just because you've gone this long hating each other doesn't mean it has to be that way forever. Plus, I don't think you guys really hated each other at all. You need to realize the perfection you have. I've locked you in the studio, and I'll know when you're done discussing. Don't cheat. For me, don't cheat on this._

"What the hell is she talking about?" Sam remarked.

"Yeah, we're not locked in," Freddie remarked.

They looked at the door and noticed Carly quickly locking the door and running down the stairs for dear life.

"Carly!" Sam bellowed. "Carly, get back here or there were certainly be cat fucking!"

"Cat fucking?" Freddie repeated.

"Don't ask, Freddork. You weren't there!"

Just to test it, Freddie fiddled with the doorknob. Carly had done her job and locked it shut. Now he was stuck with Sam and a confession.

"Well," he began slowly, "I think it's safe to say Carly knows."

"You think it's safe to say Carly knows what?" Sam snapped.

Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"That I sent you the doughnuts."

Sam felt her heart stop beating in her chest. Freddork Benson sent her the doughnuts? Oh, that couldn't be. She felt herself feeling more shocked than she did the need to slaughter him. Could it be she didn't mind now that it was true?

"You what?"

"I sent you the doughnuts."

"Did you do it as a prank?"

"No."

"Then why'd you do it?"

Freddie got closer to Sam and stared into her shiny blue eyes. He thought this would be trying to admit, but it was easier now that he was facing her. So far, she didn't seem like she was going to kill him. Hopefully she felt the same way he did.

"Because I like you, Sam," he spilled. "I like you like you. A lot."

"Since when?"

She was baffled. Having Freddie like her wasn't anywhere near as bad as she thought it would be. In fact, it wasn't bad at all. Sam found it to be very possible that she returned his feelings. And this was Fredweird.

"Since you put your head on my shoulder when we were watching all of those dance clips," he confessed.

"Freddie, that was a long time ago now."

"I know. I just never gave up on you because I knew if I got to you in the right way, you'd have the same feelings for me."

And when Sam saw the look on Freddie's face, she knew she had to be in love with him. They had treated each other like shit, it was true. But underneath all of that, there was definitely romantic chemistry. Freddie was her first kiss, and, as far as Sam could see, her first love.

"Do you have the same feelings for me?" Freddie questioned.

Even though her heart was beating so loudly she could barely hear herself think, Sam wasn't afraid to let Freddie know how she felt. And she'd do it noisily enough so that even she could hear it.

"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! I'm in love with you, Freddie!"

Suddenly, Sam pounced on him, so overcome with surprise and glee. Never in a million years did she think she'd dust off all the mock hate she had for Freddie and realize that it was really just masqueraded love.

Freddie was just as astonished as she was. He was almost positive that when he told Sam how he felt, she would run him into the ground. But she was telling him her feelings matched his, and this kind of thing only happened in his wildest fantasies. This, however, was one hundred percent real. And he felt like he was walking on cloud nine.

"I'm in love with you too, Sam," he gasped, mainly because she had quite the grip on him.

Magically and simultaneously, both Sam and Freddie headed for each other's lips and kissed. It was even better than the first, even though it wasn't as long. This time, they weren't kissing "just to get it over with". They were kissing because it was the start of a never-ending chapter in their lives.

"Your lips have gotten even better at kissing," Sam complimented. "Why?"

"I haven't kissed anyone else, but I have been thinking about what it would be like if I got another chance to kiss you," Freddie owned up. "So, I guess that means thinking about kissing improves it."

She giggled.

"Thinking about it. I'll give it a shot."

After saying this, Sam hopped off of Freddie and faced his beautifully innocent eyes. Loving this boy wasn't hard. No, it was simple because it was something she'd been doing forever.

"Benson, I have one request," Sam started.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Next time you want to leave food in my locker, make it Fat Cakes and a different signature on the note."

Freddie chuckled.

"All right. How about, 'Love, Freddie'?"

Smiling, Sam knew her answer to the idea.

" 'Love, Freddie' is perfect."


End file.
